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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070131">Ain't No Mountain High</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshiewrites/pseuds/freshiewrites'>freshiewrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Disabled Reader, Fluff, Good Boyfriend Slim, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Panic Attacks, Reader is a weeb, Reader is not gendered, Short Reader, Slim is a Weeb, fat reader, reader is unnamed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:40:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,522</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshiewrites/pseuds/freshiewrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader is having a bad... life. Slim helps the only way he can.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ain't No Mountain High</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheeWolf85/gifts">SheeWolf85</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is for Sheewolf85 :DDDD</p><p>i really hope this lifts your spirits &lt;333333</p><p>enjoy!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You’ll find a real job one day, don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s what you’d heard the majority of your life, living with family and being around friends that didn’t really understand that you just… weren’t able to keep up with “real jobs”. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had a bevvy of both emotional and physical issues, none of which were extremely terrible on their own (not that the neurotypicals would understand even if they were), but all together they made one hell of a horrid cocktail of hardship. Even if “other people” had it worse than you, you still struggled enough that actually working a regular, 9-5 job just wasn’t in the cards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What you really wanted to do was write. It was your passion, your reason for living and creating. Yeah some of your “content” was on the darker side of the spectrum, but nothing about that made it any less fun to post what you’d written online just to see if anyone was going to get emotional because you’d nearly killed a main character off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which was, incidentally, how you met Papyrus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was into the same anime as you, which was how he found your fics in the first place. He loved the same characters, had some of the same ships (though the man had some wacky crack ships you wouldn’t even touch.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To be completely honest, once the two of you had started talking over chat websites, you’d mostly hit it off about as perfect as it could have gone. The two of you just sorta… worked. He would commission you to write his ships you’d actually consider, and tipped crazy amounts for what he said were “masterpieces of literature”. You always told him off for it, but no matter how much you pleaded, he’d never let you give any of it back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once you realized that he lived no more than two hours from you, he mentioned a park you knew about and the two of you decided to meet up. For real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It put butterflies in your stomach, thinking about meeting someone that had felt like nothing less than your soul mate for the past year. You knew he was a monster, that he was tall and had a deep, but kind voice. You’d done enough voice chats to know that he was a smoker, seeing as how he’d have a cig out after work when you usually chatted up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew you were human, obviously with the questions you’d ask him about being a monster. He knew you weren’t that keen on your physical appearance, but not exactly what you looked like, and he knew that you were a little on the short side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as you walked into the clearing you’d agreed on, catching sight of a lanky skeleton monster standing at the end of the path, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, you almost didn’t believe it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not until he caught sight of you, wary hope in his eyes as he called out your name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Papyrus?” You answered, and a sparkle of real happiness lit in his eyelights as he all but jogged up to you, flowers forgotten at his side as he looked you up and down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were doing the same, noting that he looked… about how you figured he’d look. What from being from a Fellgrounds, the edgy nature of his outfit wasn’t that surprising. A dark purple sweater covered by a deep brown jacket, a crimson collar around his neck and a gold tooth replacing one of his canines. What was surprising was the cute bangle of a bracelet he was wearing around his wrist, the exact one you’d shipped him not 3 months before. On it were two charms, ones that were supposed to be a ship of his, but that he said reminded him of the two of you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe this…” He murmured, smiling down at you, and you couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are those flowers for anyone special, mister skele man?” you teased, Papyrus chuckling as he held them up for you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Naw, just some fan I met online. I think we’re headed somewhere special, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking back the wet tears, you gently took them, sniffing once before gesturing with your cane down the short path. “Shall we then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And it went from there.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d eventually moved in together, when Papyrus found out about your money issues. He made bank, he claimed, so it made sense. Neither of you really thought about your relationship outside of the natural way you got together; cuddling on the slightly too small couch, making meals together as you bumped corners and laughed as you stepped on each other’s toes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, it was completely easy, loving Papyrus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which was why you had to wonder why it was so hard to love yourself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d been getting a few not so great comments on a few of your last depression-fueled chapters, asking why you’d gone so down hill in your quality, and a few even asking if you’d copied a much more popular writer in fandom. It made your eyes sting with heat, reading them over and over until the words were burned into your mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did nothing to help the low you were in, your body aching fiercely as you tried so hard to get out of bed that morning… only to fail miserably as you hoisted yourself onto your side into a more comfortable position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Papyrus was out getting groceries, one of his self given chores, leaving you to make a sort of meal plan for the rest of the week based on what he was getting. He’d left you a list and everything, sitting on the kitchen counter downstairs, utterly ignored as you sighed heavily into your pillow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You weren’t going to cry, not about this. Not whenever you were supposed to have thick skin as a writer. Criticism made you better, not worse, but… if that was the case, why did it hurt so much?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had to wonder if there wasn’t just something extremely wrong with you. Surely there was, no one else would be crying because someone on the internet said something mean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t deserve this life. Didn’t deserve living with your soulmate, didn’t deserve living in your own house with any food you could want at your beck and call, didn’t deserve </span>
  <em>
    <span>Papyrus</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking back the tears as they came, you choked on a sob as you thought about it. Papyrus didn’t deserve to be saddled with you, didn’t deserve your fat, ugly, lazy ass sleeping in his bed and eating his food while you did next to nothing to pay the bills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t hear the front door open downstairs, didn’t hear Papyrus call your name and hurry up the stairs as he worriedly called for you again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as soon as you saw him come through the door, magic searching desperately for you, you sat up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m s-sorry, I-I’m sorr-ry, I’m-” you said over and over, sobbing ugly tears as Papyrus stepped forward instantly, silent as he gathered you up into his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. You kept saying them, apologies over and over for things you couldn’t name but knew he’d understand, he always understood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once you’d calmed down enough to feel shame, having to be coddled like a child by your boyfriend, Papyrus finally spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you sorry for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the worst question he could have possibly asked, but you owed him an answer. “Being a-a hor-rible partner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, nuzzling into your hair in the way that never failed to make you melt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, there’s no reason to apologize for that. Anything else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stared off into space, befuddled. “For… for taking up your space?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Papyrus grunted. “Nope. No reason for that either. Got a better one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now you were squinting at the wall, brows furrowed. “I don’t know, for being a burden on you? I don’t pay any bills, I barely have enough to help with food and get my meds, I can’t help clean every day, I really need a bath and I’m sure I stink but you’re holding me anyways because I’m a big </span>
  <em>
    <span>baby-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stopped, taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as Papyrus’ grip around you loosened, just enough for him to stare down at you. The love in his eyes, the pure adoration nearly made you take another breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Babe, I’m still not hearing any legitimate reasons for you to be sorry. You help with what you’re able, and because you got shit luck, that’s not a lot by healthy terms, but guess what?” He leaned down, kissing you lightly on the nose. “I don’t care about all that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stared hard up at him. “You don’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope!” He answered brightly, before snuggling down with you on the bed. “Cause I got the best luck when I found you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your mouth was open, eyes wide as you started crying again, only this time Papyrus was there to wipe away the tears, gently holding you as you kissed him.</span>
</p>
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